High Heels and Whoopi
by Xanti
Summary: Beer, friends and conversation...response to weekly improv challenge (GS)


**Title:** High Heels and Whoopi   
  
**Author: ** Xanti   
  
**Disclaimer: ** The characters are not mine but the storyline is.   
  
**Spoilers: ** None   
  
**A/N: ** My response to the weekly Unbound Improv Challenge, first and last lines given.

* * *

"Because you're the pretty CSI, Nicky," the drunken Greg explained.   
  
"I'm not _pretty_!" protested Nick. "I'm ruggedly handsome," he said, puffing his chest out.   
  
"No Nick, you're pretty," interjected Sara, talking another gulp from her beer bottle. "I agree with Greg, out of the five of you, you'd look the best in a dress," she giggled.   
  
Nick stared back at her. "C'mon Sara," he said, eyes twinkling playfully. "We all know you're dying to see Grissom in a miniskirt."   
  
Just as Sara opened her mouth to respond, Greg let out a large snort of laughter. "Oh my god, you guys ever see that movie Ghost?" he asked.   
  
"Of course," replied Sara.   
  
"You remember that scene of Whoopi walking down the streets to the bank? Kinda all bow-legged? That's how I'd picture Grissom in heels," Greg explained, laughing.   
  
Nick and Sara both collapsed into fits of laughter at the mental picture.   
  
"Well," said a voice from beside the table. "Looks like we arrived just in time to take you kids home."   
  
Nick looked up and wiped the tears from his eyes. "Oh hey Cat, glad you could make it. Have a seat," he said, moving over and patting the spot beside him.   
  
"Thanks," she said, eyeing the empty bottles on the table.   
  
"So where are the others?" asked Sara.   
  
"Maybe Grissom is still deciding which frock to wear," replied Greg, starting another round of the giggles.   
  
"Unfortunately Greg, my frock is at the drycleaners," said a familiar voice.   
  
This time it was Catherine who began to laugh as the others turned to look at Grissom. "Beer anyone?" he said, enjoying the look of distress on Greg's face.   
  
"I think these guys are well past it," said Catherine, indicating the empties. "But I'll have one," she continued, reaching out to take a bottle from Grissom.   
  
"Scoot over Sara," commanded Grissom, almost sitting on her knee.   
  
"Hey we aren't in the lab, your supervisory powers don't work here," she said playfully.   
  
"Just move it Sidle or I'll be forced to take action," he replied, eyes sparkling in return.   
  
Sara snorted. "Yeah because we all know, you're the master of action," she said sarcastically, moving over.   
  
Grissom stared at her, a small smile tugging at his mouth. As he sat down he leaned closer and whispered into her ear. "One day you may be pleasantly surprised."   
  
"I won't hold my breath," replied Sara quietly, not missing a beat.   
  
"So where's Warrick and Brass?" asked Greg noisily, launching himself into the conversation once more.   
  
"Warrick is parking the car and Brass said something about line dancing," shrugged Catherine.   
  
"Did you just use the words line dancing and Brass in the same sentence?" asked Nick incredulously.   
  
"Hey, the man's gotta relax somehow," replied Catherine.   
  
"Yeah but I was thinking more along the lines of football, beer and a couch," said Nick. "Just goes to show how little we really know about each other," he mused.   
  
Everyone around the table gave a sigh of general consensus as they became lost in personal thoughts.   
  
"Man, who died?" rumbled a deep voice. Everyone turned to see Warrick standing next to the table, several beers in hand. "I bought another round," he said, placing the fresh bottles on the table. "But by the looks of it, you've probably had enough," nodding towards the empty bottles.   
  
Sara laughed. "Those are mostly Greg's, he was on a mission to get drunk as fast as possible," she said.   
  
"Why?" asked Warrick, looking at Greg.   
  
"He was mumbling something about Grissom making him nervous," chuckled Nick.   
  
Greg stared at the others through his fuzzy haze of drunkenness, wondering why there were two Warricks standing at the head of the table. "I don't feel good," he groaned, closing his eyes.   
  
"Uh oh," said Catherine, standing in anticipation of what was about to happen next.   
  
"Scuse me," yelled Greg, pushing past Nick and Catherine, who watched as he rushed off in the direction of the men room.   
  
"Someone's gonna be feeling sorry for himself tomorrow," laughed Sara.   
  
"Ain't that the truth," agreed Warrick. "So Nick, you still up for that game of pool?" he asked.   
  
"If you're ready to lose," smiled Nick.   
  
"Care to make a wager?" asked Warrick, walking off towards the pool tables.   
  
"And then there were three," sighed Catherine as she sat down opposite Grissom and Sara.   
  
Suddenly the bar plunged into darkness. "Must be a power c…" began Sara, breaking into a squeal mid sentence, as a hand gently turned her head and a pair of soft lips descended upon her own. The kiss was passionate and full of promise but ended as suddenly as it had started, leaving Sara in a daze.   
  
Catherine stared at the couple sitting across form her. Grissom looked like the early bird who had caught the worm, a large self-satisfied smile covered his face. Sara on the other hand seemed somewhat flustered and her cheeks had taken on a nice healthy shade of pink.   
  
Sara slowly raised her head to meet Catherine's questioning gaze. "Did you just squeal?"

* * *


End file.
